


A Series of Unfortunate Social Events 2: Cosmic Collision

by dancinbutterfly



Series: Cosmic Love [4]
Category: Political Animals, The Martian (2015), The Martian - All Media Types, The Martian - Andy Weir
Genre: 12 Step Programs, Addiction, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcoholics Anonymous, Anal Sex, Astronauts, Awkward Kissing, Banter, Bathroom Sex, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Drug Addiction, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Sex, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, In the audience, Kissing, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Mirror Sex, Museums, Musicians, Neck Kissing, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Public Speaking, Recovery, Science, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Sex From Behind, Specifically TJ's continued substance abuse recovery, Speeches, Super light-hearted joking roleplay, Washington D.C., emotional honesty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-09 22:13:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7819231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancinbutterfly/pseuds/dancinbutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TJ goes to a public speaking engagement at the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum. He has a personal engagement with the keynote speaker in private, afterwards. </p><p>Yeah. </p><p>He's enjoying Mark's vacation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Series of Unfortunate Social Events 2: Cosmic Collision

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alby_mangroves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alby_mangroves/gifts).



> Forever for alby.
> 
> There is art, by the amazing alby_mangroves embedded in this fic. That's right. Mark/TJ has been made life. It's not graphic, everyone has their clothes on but you might wanna be careful if you're scrolling around people who are "sensitive" to subtle eroticism in great art. That's all I'm saying. Dying. Forever. At the hot.

_Don't tell me that man doesn't belong out there. Man belongs wherever he wants to go — and he'll do plenty well when he gets there. - Wernher von Braun_

TJ sits in the very back of the auditorium of the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum in a Capitals hat (stolen from Dougie a decade ago, never to be returned, for use in adventures far more dramatic than this), and his glasses instead of his contacts, paired with a nondescript brown hoodie that's half-zipped over a Miles Davis T-shirt and jeans. The overall look is that of a grad student here for a lecture, dressed for the weekend.

He doesn’t slouch but he isn’t too perky either because people notice people who behave or act out of sync with the group. Even his Secret Service detail could be discounted as just more site security for the guest speaker. Like this, TJ is now the closest he can possibly be to incognito.

There is a couple in their forties on his left and a trio of high-school aged girls with a woman who must be one of their mothers on his right, and none of the recognize him. Good. That makes it easier to focus even if he can’t really relax, with the ‘what-if’ always in the back of his mind. He bought a ticket to be here just like everyone else and there’s not that big a chance of anyone recognizing him. Even if they did, he’s not doing anything wrong to report about. Still, there’s an old paranoia fraying his edges like it hasn’t in ages.

Mark is talking and he sounds good. He knows what he’s talking about. He’s funny, off the cuff yet prepared, making jokes about potatoes and pirate-ninjas and David Bowie lyrics. He talks about plants in zero-G versus Mars dirt and how he did more car repair on Mars than he’s ever done on Earth in his whole life. Then he clears his throat and starts to talk about being home.

“There’s not as much cool stuff to talk about after Sol 549. I mean, people think the celebrity stuff is neat and there are practical adjustments space-to-Earth that other astronauts have talked about. Google some videos of astronauts fresh back from space. We do stupid shit like leave pens and cups in mid-air because we forget about, you know, gravity.”

That earns him a laugh from the crowd. He smiles back at them.

“I know, right? There’s a few videos of me doing it. Oh man, I think there’s one clip where I do it talking to Anderson Cooper and get coffee, like, everywhere. Not one of my finest moments. Youtube it. You’ll love it.”

Another laugh ripples through the crowd. There’s been a lot of that during this speech. That’s an impressive thing, actually.

His parents are both orators who have accomplished a lot with their speaking prowess in their lives. His brother is already on his way to doing the same.

TJ knows what a room looks like in the hands of someone who can control it. Mark has that, but he’s so different from TJ’s family. Mark isn’t trying to achieve anything beyond telling a story. In a way, what he’s doing is simply a less personal version of their own conversations.

“I’ve had some time to think about it after that first round of crazy interviews, you know, that first six months or so when I was everywhere and you got sick of my face?” He smiles deprecatingly. “So, since things calmed down and I stopped being on Mars anymore, that’s supposed to be the end of the story. I’m rescued, I come home, happily ever after. I did something hard, the hard thing is over, now things are good. That’s not how it works though.”

The room has gone quiet. TJ can actually hear one of the girls in the trio next to him breathing shallower all of a sudden.

“The reality is, when you’re really scared or really sad for a long time or in a big way, that doesn’t go away all at once when things are good again. There’s medical names for what the chemicals in your brain do and why, but I’m a botanist and an engineer. I’m not going to talk about that. I’m going to talk about what it’s like when you feel like the whole world, literally people all over the planet Earth, look at you and go ‘dude, you went from one of the worst things ever to one of the best things ever’ and you feel like you owe them happiness all the time in exchange for that change from so bad to so good and for saving your life and,” he waves a hand expansively. “Everything. Because the whole world came together for me so I feel like if everyone worked so hard, I should be doing and feeling good so the work was worth it. But you guys.” He leans forward, arms on the podium like he’s leaning towards a friend at a bar. “Sometimes I’m not.”

TJ is holding his breath. They’ve had some talks about Mark’s PTSD. He knows things…happened with Mark. During one particularly notable incident, Mark called during a panic attack to have someone to talk to until he got out of an elevator that reminded him just a little too much of an airlock. But he's Mark's boyfriend. Telling TJ isn't the same as Mark laying it out there like this.

“I get scared by stupid stuff, things that I don’t completely understand or things make me so sad I feel like I can’t breathe, like things are never going to get better and I’ve forgotten that I got rescued, that there’s hope. Being alone sometimes, traveling in cars for too long. Sometimes I don’t even know what it is. I just realize I’m feeling like that,” he rubs his neck. “Because, like, I grew up on documentaries on the Apollo 13 incident and plane crashes and things like that because I was interested in engineering, right? You just see them bravely talking about how they handled their business. We all see that and it creates this expectation that we should be okay. It creates a false idea that ability to survive trauma equates with the ability to handle the aftermath of trauma without help.”

Mark laughs. No one else does. No one else seems to move.

“That’s where the emotional portion of this evening’s little science talk is going. I’m basically trying to use myself as qualitative evidence that just because being messed up after a trauma happens doesn’t mean the good stuff you did gets negated when things are bad. The world came together to get me off that goddamn rock which leads me to think that we can come together to help each other when things are hard and hurt in a considerably less expensive and scientifically-taxing way.” He grins then. “I mean you can’t fix PTSD with physics and a wrench but people want to take care of each other. I believe that. I really do. I don’t have any organization or cause I support. I just, you know, want to put it out there. That we should keep taking care of each other, on a personal level, because things don’t stop being messed up once you touch down again. Anyway,” He holds up a rolled up piece of paper. “That’s all I’ve got on my notes. The amazing people here at the Smithsonian asked me to do an open mic Q&A after I finished my little song and dance.” He turns his body a little to address someone sitting in the small row of chairs behind him. “So you guys all ready or should I tell a few space jokes? I hope you are because my jokes are terrible."

There’s some shuffling and then a microphone on a stand is being dragged down to the front of the audience. A line forms almost instantly. Mostly, the questions are obvious and roll over TJ. How did you do this? What do you like about that? If you could have had any X thing with you on Mars what would it have been?

It’s not until she gets to the front that TJ notices that the middle girl of the pack of teens beside him is not in her seat. She’s at the mic and she’s picking at the string of her hood anxiously as she stares up the podium. “Hi Mark.”

Mark smiles down at her like like she’s a source of light. TJ can see her fluster and he gets it. Mark looking at you like that can be a bit much. “Hi. What’s your name?”

“I’m Erin. I go to high school in Virginia. Um, I wanted to ask you about that last thing you talked about. Is that okay?”

Mark nods. “I wouldn’t have brought it up if I wasn’t okay talking about it.”

“Right. So, my parents split up two years ago. Like, half the people I know have divorced parents and it’s not a big deal for them but it is for me. And I know that’s like nothing next to nearly dying but I just-“ She clears her throat. “I don’t know. They don't fight and they love me and I'm doing good in school and I have good friends so it feels like I’m doing something wrong feeling like this," she waves at her chest, "when everything else is good.”

Mark leans forward and looks at her. TJ can tell that he’s really meeting her eyes from the set of his shoulders and the look on his face. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter what it is, if you’re having problems with it then it's a real issue for you. My parents are still married. I can’t imagine what having divorced parents must be like, how much that must hurt. If it were me, I’d do everything I could to take care of myself and if that weren’t enough I would go to someone I trust for help. If they couldn’t help me, I’d keep trying until I found someone who could. I think that’s how you get through anything. If you hurt your body then you go to the doctor, if you break your computer, you go to the repair tech. We don’t ignore that there’s a problem. Well,” he looks off, “I mean some people do but a lot of the time that’s a conversation about finances and politics we’re totally not having now because it’s so not the point.” He waves a hand through the air and a few people chuckle. “The point is, and I swear to God I’m absolutely not pushing the book that’s coming out with this,” that gets another set of chuckles, “A lot of people want to know how I managed to survive on Mars and if you read it when it comes out, you’re going to see that using what I had, combined with asking people who I trusted for help was what saved me. That red hateful rock tried to kill me but I won. I fucking won. So don’t feel bad for doing what you need to do to survive, Erin. Doing what you need to do to live means you’re winning. If you’re going to be comparing yourself to people anyway, make yourself the winner.”

She nods and chokes out “Thank you,” into the mic before scurrying back to her seat. She’s crying. Her face is drenched and she works her way back towards her seat. She slides into TJ’s row and the girl sitting next to the adult woman is waiting for her, pulling her into a tight hug.

TJ watches her cry into her friend’s neck, this teenage girl who was younger than he was when he was outed. He can’t hear the rest of what Mark and his askers say. Something in him is cracking wide open. He isn’t sure what it is but it’s raw and alive and it scares the shit out of him.

~*~*~

_Now my own suspicion is that the Universe is not only queerer than we suppose, but queerer than we **can** suppose. - J. B. S. Haldane_

The sex after Mark’s speech is wild and a little messy. Or maybe a lot messy. TJ coerces Mark into fucking him over the marble sinks in the men’s room of the museum before they leave. Mark does it because he’s always wanted to do it in the Smithsonian. “It’s totally like the science mile high club.”

TJ groans as Mark bottoms out inside him, planting his hand on the mirror. His skin slips against the glass and he slides forward, knocking the air out of him a little. “You’re such a fucking nerd.”

Mark shakes his head at him over his shoulder in the mirror. “Yeah well this nerd is pounding the shit out of this prep school prince.”

“Well, that’s a game we haven’t played. Did I bully you after chess club? Did I break your calculator and you’re making me pay with my ass?”

Mark slams in a little viciously and TJ laughs. He can’t help it. His glasses and hat are scattered at far ends of the countertop from one towel dispenser to the other. With his disguise is gone there's no Clark Kenting his way out of this if some sort of security camera is taping this. But the pleasure is making him giggly and playful.

“Oh fuck. Yeah, give it to me fast, dork boy. Don’t want to be late for chemistry, do you? God, yeah. It might fuck up your GPA.”

“Did I know you were this twisted when we started this?” Mark asks, putting a hand between his shoulder blades. Then he pushes down and TJ has to fold himself over. God bless this man and everything about him. Seriously. TJ is just so turned on right now, fuck.

“I’m pretty sure you figured it out after the second or third Skype-sex session.”

“Right, right. I remember that. With the page/senator thing.”

“Ngh. I’m a product of my upbringing. Fuck, Mark, that’s so good. Deeper? Can you fuck me deeper?”

“Yeah, babe, I got you.”

Mark moves his hands to his hips to push in deeper. It hits so good that TJ rears up but Mark’s hands return to his back a second later. “No. Stay down, babe. Stay down.”

“Yes. Oh my God.” TJ feels like there’s no air in the room. His hands grapple for purchase and land on one of the taps. Mark slams in hard. TJ fumbles and suddenly the sound of rushing water mixes with the sound of their panting breath and slapping skin. “Oh my God, Mark.”

“God, you are so fucking gorgeous like this. It’s ridiculous. I mean, look.” He pauses, making TJ whine in frustration. He strokes the back of TJ’s neck and says it again. “Look in the mirror, TJ.”

TJ tilts his face up from the cool stone beside the sink and comes eye to eye with his reflection. As soon as he does, Mark starts moving again, thank fucking God. He leans down and kisses under TJ’s ear. “See? I mean, shit, look at you.”

His pupils are blown, his skin is bright pink and his lips are flushed red from biting them. His hair is still carefully styled from this morning but there’s sweat collecting at his hairline. He looks fucked out, which is what he is.

But Mark is in the picture too, lips against his skin in a curved smile. It brings out the wrinkles in his face, the lines and dips around his eyes and mouth and in his cheeks. TJ can see the unity of their movement in the mirror and that’s pretty gorgeous, he’ll give Mark that. The two of them together merging into one being tied up with pleasure; that’s beautiful.

It’s probably not what Mark was talking about. It’s almost definitely not, actually. But it’s still pretty huge for TJ, big like nothing’s been big since Sean. But Sean would never do this. Sean would never take him in public, where anyone could walk in and see. Sean was ashamed of him. Mark likes being with him so much that he wants people to see. That feels a whole different kind of good.

“Mark.”

“Yeah, I’m right here.”

"Touch me?"

"Yeah." Mark mouths at his neck and reaches around to fist TJ’s cock. He has to push his boxers down a little bit to get it out of the way in front. When he does touch him finally, it's more than TJ can take.

TJ can feel his eyes rolling back in his head but Mark nips his earlobe. "No, no, babe, stay with me. Keep watching. Look at us. Watch."

It almost hurts to do as he's told. He wants to just sink into feeling. Focusing on them means he can't float away in a wave of sensation the way he's used to. He has to stay present with Mark in a way he never really has with anyone else before - not even Sean.

He can see his mouth drop open as his breathing speeds up at the thought, his breath forming a thin fog on the mirror. He reaches back to clasp the back of Mark's neck and pull him closer. Mark goes easy, nuzzling his nose against TJ's cheek. He's drowning in sensation but the intimacy overpowers anything physical. TJ never thought being fucked from behind could be something emotional but it is. Oh god, it is, and he's so close.

"Mark, please."

"What do you need?" Mark mumbles against his skin, hot and soft.

"I don't know. More? Just more." TJ can see tears on his face. He doesn't know when he started crying but look at that. He is.

"TJ, oh fuck." Mark slides his free arm between TJ's chest and the sink counter to grip TJ's body tight to him as he slams their hips together so hard and fast that TJ can't breathe. It shakes TJ's teeth in his skull but otherwise, Mark's grip on him is solid, holding his body steady and safe as he is otherwise shaken to his core.

His orgasm sneaks up on him and punches him like a fist. His breathing stops and his heart stutters. He forces himself to keep his eyes open so he can see his face twist with pleasure. His O face makes him looks like a damn fool but he can see Mark watching him. Mark looks absolutely awed and that's its own kind of pleasure.

Then he slumps against the sink counter, limp and spent with Mark still hard inside him. TJ chokes out raspily, "Finish, 's good. Want you to."

"Jesus," Mark groans. "You're going to kill me. Literally kill me."

"Fuck me." TJ says, more firmly this time and Mark starts to move. He's a little lazy and a lot firm in his thrusts. It's very Mark. TJ actually laughs a little. TJ feels boneless and wrung out but not empty, not used up. He feels full and light and Mark keeps saying his name, over and over like TJ's all he wants. When he comes, TJ watches his face in the mirror and gets why Mark wanted him to look so badly. If Mark sees him as half as beautiful as TJ finds Mark, well, damn. They need to be seen.

Mark flops on top of him, careless but TJ just gives absolutely no shits. He's heavy. TJ can feel how tacky his clothes are when Mark is pressing into his skin. Then Mark starts giggling and it's contagious. They're both laughing as they put themselves together and dispose of the condom. Mark looks sheepish as hell as he reaches over and turns off the water TJ accidentally turned on.

He coughs then says, "Well. That was…intense."

TJ grins at him. He always feels good when he's been fucked, but usually it's a sleepy kind of good. This is almost a feeling of rejuvenation, like he could run out of the museum and all the way back to the White House if he were let loose. "That's a word for it."

"You snarky little shit. Come here." He grabs TJ by the belt loops and reels him in for a kiss. Then, without moving away from his mouth, Mark says, "So which one of us is going to wipe your jizz off the side of the sink?"

TJ leans back and cocks an eyebrow. "I'm the president's son. I am sure there are people to do that for me."

"Oh you are definitely doing it, you bourgeois pig."

"I swear to God, if you start singing Do You Hear the People Sing I am leaving you here alone and getting back on my own. I just want you to know."

Mark looks affronted. "Hey, I would make an awesome Enjorlas."

"No. Leaving. I'm leaving." TJ declares. He turns and walks out and seems Mark turn on the water out of the corner of his eye. He is totally going to clean up the come on the sink.

TJ zips up his hoodie as he walks out. He smiles when he hears footsteps behind him as Mark catches up to him.

"You didn't wait for me."

"I walked slowly," TJ argues.

"Oh, well that's better," Mark demures, sidling up to him.

TJ's whole body goes tense as Mark's arm slides around his waist, thumb hooking in his belt loop. It's casual, easy contact but TJ has to force himself to unwind.

This is okay.

They're boyfriends. Boyfriends touch each other. It's what they do.

Besides no one is watching. Even if they were, it doesn't matter. He's not doing anything wrong, no matter what GOP media outlets have been saying since he was a teenager.

More importantly, Mark wants to be with him as more than just a fuck in a bathroom, no matter how intimate. He wants to be with him enough that he'll risk being seen in public together. Maybe he even _wants_ to be seen together.

Wrapping that thought around himself, TJ makes himself relax fully. He lets himself lean into Mark's side, winding his own arm around Mark's waist and reminds himself that he is allowed to be happy. He is allowed to be happy with Mark.

~*~*~

_"We should have positive expectations of what is in the universe, not fears and dreads." - Nichelle Nichols_

Mark and TJ spend the next three days in bed.

Well that's not 100% accurate. They go to the kitchen for food and they shower (and have shower sex). They go out on the upstairs deck to get some sunshine. But yeah. Mostly they stay in bed.

TJ could have happily called in sick to work and spent all of Mark's visit in bed but on day three, TJ's sponsor, Kevin, calls. Kevin is fifteen years older than TJ, a long-time lobbyist for an environmental concern he refuses to tell TJ the name of and has seven years of sobriety under his belt. He's got thinning blond hair, wears tortoiseshell glasses, and awful sweater vests. TJ approached him initially because his southern accent reminded TJ of his childhood but he soon found out Kevin was one of the meanest sons of bitches this side of Bud Hammond. It was good for him, really.

TJ picks up when he calls because he always picks up when Kevin calls. Always. He is very glad that he and Mark aren't mid-fuck when the phone rings though. Kevin dispenses with the pleasantries and asks him why he hasn't called to check in.

"My boyfriend's in town." Said boyfriend is face down in a pillow and snoring quietly. TJ wonders if that would get annoying after forty years and is immediately horrified by the thought. He can't imagine what he'll be doing four months from now and he's thinking about forty years with Mark? Jesus Christ.

"That is a shit excuse."

"You only say that because you aren't having sex with him." TJ argues. "If you were, you would understand."

"Every other day. You're supposed to check in every other day. It's been six. How are you?"

TJ pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm fine. I'm sober. Happy even."

"Uhuh. And when was the last time you went to a meeting?"

A long silence stretched between them. "I told you my boyfriend's in town."

"So how long?"

The day Mark got here he went to one in the morning before work. It had been good. He liked the early bird meetings. They were usually small and quiet. There was a lot of wisdom in those rooms. "Five days."

"Yeah. Get your ass to a meeting. Today."

"Kev-"

"Meeting. Today."

"He's only in town for ten days. It's already half over."

"And a meeting is only one hour out of those five. You can spare it for your sobriety."

TJ sighs because Kevin is right. Of course he is. Being sober is how he's able to be in a relationship in the first place. But he feels so good in this bed, in this room, with the door safely locked against the outside world.

"Invite him along if you feel comfortable. Go to an open meeting and let him see what you're doing. If he's worth keeping, he'll at the very least appreciate the invitation, even if he says no."

"What did yours do?"

"Jake's the one who drove my ass to rehab the first three times. He made me get myself there the last two because he'd gotten himself his own Program by then." Kevin sighs. The only time Kevin ever sounds soft about anything is when he talks about his husband. The fact that they're both gay as the day is long is another reason that TJ picked Kevin as his sponsor and he's not ashamed to admit it. "That man's been in Al-Anon twice as long as I've been sober. He knows the Steps better than I do. He's the kind of man who'd've been offended if I didn't invite him to come to a meeting with me. But I know Jake. I don't know fuck about your guy."

TJ sighs and brushes Mark's bangs off his sleeping face. "Then how do you know it's the right thing to do?"

"Because I've been in the rooms a hell of lot longer than you have. It's a completely different situation but the bottom-line is the same. You're an addict, kid. As an addict, the rules are that when you want someone to trust to you, you have to suck it up and trust them first."

"You think you're helpful but you're not. You're an asshole."

"I can be both." Kevin says smugly. "There's one at three, one at five, and one seven-thirty. You pick which one you want to go to. I know you know where they are. Just go and text me when you get there." Then he hangs up, leaving TJ alone with Mark and his responsibilities.

He watches Mark sleep for another half hour before he pokes him awake. It only takes three jabs to the soft place just below the ribs for Mark to bat at him and groan awake. "Fuck. You couldn't have blown me awake or, I don't know, used some other humane method."

"You'll live."

Mark mashes his face into the pillow. "Not the point."

"Is the point that you wanted a blowjob?"

"The point is that I was asleep and if you were going to wake me a blowjob is the least you could do."

From anyone else that would be obnoxious and kinda pushy but from Mark it's charming as hell. He grins down at the back of Mark's head. He's cute. TJ used to go for smoking hot and/or devastating. Before Mark, he hasn't actually been with anyone who is cute in a heart-clenching-while-looking-at-gifs-of-bunnies-in-cups kind of way before. It's a fuzzy, squishy feeling.

It's a whole different ball of wax than desperate lust. It makes him smile and feel all warm in his chest. He really likes it. Dougie would be so proud.

Especially since he still does have the mind-melting desire side of things. Like Mark's bare back has this gorgeous smooth curve to it? Yeah, TJ wants to explore it with his hands and then lick it all over. Yet still he has the fluffy bunny-in-a-cup feeling. It's madness.

"Mark." He tries, because Kevin is right, he probably does need a meeting if he’s feeling out of control like this. "I have to go."

"No," Mark groans, wrapping his arm around TJ's neck. "Stay with me."

"That was my sponsor. I have to go to a meeting. I kinda have been letting it slip since you came."

Mark's face goes serious at that. He nods but doesn't move his arm. "That's a very good excuse for getting out of bed."

"Yeah."

"So is this like a 'right now' thing or a 'set a timer' thing?" he asks, shifting a little so that he can play with TJ's hair. It feels so good. No questions, no recriminations or doubt, no deriding him for missing meetings over the past few days, just acceptance. God, this man.

"A timer." He takes a deep breath and asks, "And you can come with me. If you want." Mark's hand goes still and TJ charges on. "You don't have to. I don't want you to feel pressure or anything. That's not what I mean. I just, if you want to see, you know, how it works. AA. You can come. It's an open meeting. And you can. If you want. But only if you want."

"TJ," Mark says gently, smiling so lines cut into the skin around his eyes. "I'm honored okay? So stop before you make me cry like a four-year-old with a skinned knee."

TJ gently punches Mark's arm. "Shut up."

"No. I'm serious. These are deep feelings I'm having, Hammond. Don't dismiss my emotions," Mark declares, sounding nothing like serious.

"I shouldn't have asked," TJ protests, dropping down on top of Mark to bury his face in Mark's bare shoulder. It's a good place to hide his stupidly huge smile.

"Nope. Too late. No take-backs. We're going to a couples AA meeting. It's going to be romantic as shit."

"I hate you," TJ moans into Mark's warm, soft skin. He thinks it sounds almost believable and not at all like he's laughing.

"Sure you do. And I have five thousand square miles of farmland on Mars to sell you," Mark counters. "Prime real estate."

TJ looks up to find Mark beaming at him. He has to kiss him. Has to. He tastes like traces of last venture to the kitchen, toothpaste, sleep, and just Mark. It's so good. He grins back. Mark does that. He makes TJ smile like crazy. "What a coincidence. I was looking to buy."

"It's almost like we fit."

"Yeah." TJ agrees, trying not to let his voice shake at how close to home that hits. "Almost."

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I have no idea what the any of the men's bathrooms in any Smithsonian museums look like.
> 
> TIME FOR THE CLOSING NOTES RELATING TO SCIENCE!
> 
> The title comes from a quote by Seth Shostak who works at the place where we look for aliens(SETI) about how the moon was formed. "The Moon is a ball of left-over debris from a cosmic collision that took place more than four billion years ago."
> 
> The other quotes are from Wernher von Braun the rocket scientist, J. B. S. Haldane the geneticist and biologist, and Nichelle Nichols, the actor and activist who originated Lt. Nyota Uhura. 
> 
> If you wanna talk about space or these two idiots in love or things in general feel free to come bother me on [tumblr](http://dancinbutterfly.tumblr.com/).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Personal Engagement](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7819393) by [alby_mangroves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alby_mangroves/pseuds/alby_mangroves)




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